Why I love you
by ColonelSexypants
Summary: In which Italy tells you, the reader, why he loves Germany, and Germany tells you why he loves Italy. -Silliness, randomness, mild GerIta, probably a crappy attempt at humorous confessions and mild language. Please don't flame, but R&R. For Justice! First chapter: Italy
1. Chapter 1: Italy

**Author's notes: So this is a spontaneous thing that I wrote because my friend asked for a GerIta romance fluff thing. I really couldn't think of a plot, so I went and looked at ideas that other fanfiction authors used—from Naruto, Man, Fullmetal Alchemist, Kingdom Hearts, etc... and saw that some people had done a sort of thing where each person of the pairing wrote a letter thing about why they loved the other. So... I'm doing that, except it's as though they were asked to write an essay... somehow. OMG, just read it. Hopefully it's good enough, Justice. :3 **

**By the way, Justice is awesome guys. Like, Prussia would look at her and be like "OH SHIT THIS BITCH IS AWESOME." Yeeee.**

**I don't own Hetalia. If I did, Spain and Romano would be together (SPAMANO FTW), Germany would have kissed Italy for **_**real**_**, Japan and Greece would have gotten together by now, Britain and France would have solved one of their fights with a serious makeout session, Prussia would have raped (except it wouldn't be rape ;) Austria, Canada would get fed up and punch America and then they would somehow get all up in each other's grills... well, you all get my point. Since none of that happened, I clearly don't own it. T.T**

**This will be separated in two, with Italy speaking first. I will try to get Germany's part up in the next couple days.**

**...**

**Part 1: Italy**

**...**

A lot of people ask me why I hang around Germany all the time... uhm... well, I love him, of course! You sillies! He can be such a big fat meanie pants some days—I hope he didn't hear me say that, though. Actually, I hope he's not home. I kinda burnt some pasta to the bottom of a pot earlier... It was an accident! Romano called me on the phone complaining about Spain being annoying again! I forgot the pasta was on... and... uhm... well, let's just say it's a good thing Prussia was around and knew how to turn off the fire alarm... and how to use a fire extinguisher... Germany is going to be really mad when he gets home.

What was I talking about? Oh, right. Why I love Germany! It's 'cause he loves me too! I mean, he never says anything, and usually always yells at me, and—oh, crap! One sec. Someone is at the door—I hope it's not Germany! Oh. It's just Prussia being a freak. I think he's running after the ice cream truck... yepp, that's definitely him. No one else runs down the street screaming "HEY STUPID ICE CREAM TRUCK MAN! WAIT FOR THE AWESOME ME I AM AWESOME PRUSSIA AND YOU SHOULD BOW BEFORE MY AWESOMENESS!" Well, no one sane, anyways. Okay, well as I was saying... where was I... Ah yes! I know Germany loves me, because he hasn't kicked me out yet! I mean... I am pretty useless. And when I try, I usually mess up... but Germany is so nice! After he's done yelling at me and going on about things in his funny angry language (hehe I love when he says 'nein', he looks like a mad gorilla!) he always helps me make things better! Romano says it's because "the potato-loving bastard doesn't like you and he secretly laughs at the little doll he has of you under his bed!" which is just ridiculous because the only thing that is under Germany's bed is a pair of underwear, dust bunnies, and a pair of froggie slippers that he told me he'd kill me if anyone found out about them (So, uh, don't tell okay?) and his... box. You know. _The Box._

One time I asked to see what was inside since I can't figure out the code on the lock and open it myself. He'd promptly turned the color of spaghetti sauce, choked on his spit and passed out! I drew a moustache on him then, but don't tell~

I keep getting distracted! Let me try again. Germany... uhmm... where was I... he... Oh yeah! So after he is done yelling he helps me make things better. Which is good, because otherwise I would probably be dead now. He also pushes me. No, I don't mean like shoves me—even though sometimes he does that when he's mad—I mean like he pushes me to get better. Like with running! He always promises me pasta! What a motivation! And he keeps his promises too! I love him!

And he lets me sleep in his bed! It's really cool! He's actually super cuddly. When you look at him you think 'oooh Big Bad Mister Germany Meanie-bo-beanie!' but then he's really just a big teddy bear! He's always all "NEIN SCHEIßE GET OUT OF MY BED YOU FREAK" to me, but he never actually kicks me out! Sometimes he gets up and paces around and gets mad and looks at the box under his bed with a weird look in his eyes and then at me but I don't know why. Oh well. He also sometime goes and eats those potatoes he's got sitting there on his dresser, eating it like an apple, then comes back, lays down and just goes to sleep! It's so cute! He sometimes kicks me or yells at me to go away when I cuddle him, but he always gives up. Although he always has this look of doom on his face. I wonder why.

Ooh! Ooh! And guess what! He wears those red underpants I gave him last Christmas sometimes! Heehee! They're so cute! Germany is such a cute person! Even though he can be a meanie! And, he—

...Huh?

Stop getting distracted?

But I'm supposed to talk about Germany right? That's what I'm doing! Sheesh! You're like Romano with all your whining. And he's kind of a dick.

Anyways, I also love Germany because he can be really sweet sometimes. There's times when I'm feeling really sad, and I ask for a hug. He will turn red like a tomato (hehe) and then say some bad words and then mumble and then say 'fine' and hug me! He's like a chocolate. All hard on the outside but gooey on the inside! It's true, actually—have you ever touched his bum? It's really firm. Kinda weird. What? Of course I like his bum! It's part of him after all! I love all of Germany! Another thing is remember that song I wrote him? He got all mad at first and sent me back home—I came back of course—but every once in a while, I hear him singing or humming it. And get this.

It's his ringtone.

Yeah! Really! One time Prussia called him for potatoes or something and it was my song! Yay!

Germany is also a big dose of reality. Okay, I'm going to sound a bit _stupido_ here—but he likes me for me! See, a lot of people like me because of my talents, and I'm related to Grampa Rome—but not Germany. In fact, he gets annoyed when people praise me, then always tells me I shouldn't show off so much because people might start taking me for granted. When I asked if that was the only reason he liked me (that moment was so scary—I thought he didn't like me!) he told me that he liked me for _me_, not because of any of my "considerable talent and skills, just because you're Italy." I almost died! I was so happy I hugged him right then and there— and he didn't even try to push me away! He hugged me back! See? Like a teddy bear!

Oh! Oh yeah! Romano told me I shouldn't tell this to anyone because it's "SCARRING AND DISGUSTING AND I HATE MY FUCKING LIFE NOW OH GOD WHY DID YOU TELL ME VENEZIANO I COULD HAVE LIVED MY WHOLE FUCKING LIFE WITHOUT KNOWING THAT DAMMIT AND NOW YOU'VE GIVEN ME FUEL TO FIRE MY NIGHTMARES FOR THE NEXT THREE CENTURIES THANK YOU VERY FUCKING MUCH STUPID LITTLE BROTHER" (those were his exact words with a bit more Italian swearing, and Spain pulled him away before he could get any further) but I really want to say it anyway! Sometimes... shhh, don't tell, okay? It's a secret. Plus, I don't need any more Romano-panic-attacks. But sometimes—ooh, this is embarrassing. Am I blushing? I am, aren't I? Ohh... well... Maybe I shouldn't say...

Okay, I'll just spit it out! I will pretend it is a plate of pasta and just eat it all in one devouring! Yeah! Okay!

So...

Sometimes...

MEANDGERMANYKISS.

Yeah!

Crazy right?

You didn't hear me? I don't wanna say it again... Okay. Sometimes, me and Germany kiss! It never goes more than that but it's so weird! I always feel all warm and fuzzy! He's a really good kisser and—ah, poop, someone else is at the door, one sec~

Crap! Crap! Oh no, it's Germany, he's home—I need to wrap this up—!

Let's see! SO Germany is really cute, he loves me, he helps me, he makes me improve (whether I like it or not), he lets me sleep beside him, he hugs me, and he likes me for me instead of for my talents. Right! And sometimes, we kiss! It's so fun! Heehee! That's why I love Germany! And he loves me too!

Oh, darn. He's yelling about the pasta, now, I have to go... Darn...

Hasta la pasta!

...By the way, don't tell him about this, okay? Especially not the froggie slippers... I don't want to die.

**...**

**Author's note: Uhm... yepp, pointless. But... I tried. Haha I might take it down if it gets no positive feedback.**

**Reviews, favs and follows are muchly appreciated, that is if you want to be so nice as to grace my crappy writing with your time. LOL. **

**Germany's will be coming up, unless no one likes this pointless thing. Yeshhh. *hearts***

**Toodaloo!**


	2. Chapter 2: Germany

**Author's note: Yay! I got some reviews and they were all nice :D I'm glad you guys liked it. I was nervous no one would! O.o So, thank you for making my day :D **

**-Here is Germany's part. I don't think it's as long as Italy's... Actually, I have no idea... **

**...**

**Part 2: Germany**

**...**

…So, no one is home. Prussia went out to bug… Uh…Canada, that's it, and Italy went to visit Romano. Thank god he didn't insist on bringing me…

Well… I've had some people asking me lately why I let Italy stay around. I mean, he's practically useless, smells like garlic, constantly breaks my stuff, almost burns my house down daily, gives me horrible headaches every second of the day, infuriates me to no end, sucks at battle strategies, is the laziest person I know, always makes my house overly hot by making pasta—ahh, you get the point. But I don't know…there's something about him that makes me unable to let him go.

Ugh… I'm not made for this. I don't know how to explain it…hrmm… Well… he's just… _Italy_. The man is pretty much 'cute' personified. That was the hardest thing I've ever had to say in my—NO I AM NOT BLUSHING, IT'S JUST THE LIGHTING IN HERE.

Ahem…so anyways. Yeah… he's just, I don't know, he's persistent I guess. At first, he really just pissed me off, but eventually I got used to him being here, and now I just can't really picture life without him… Urg, I need a potato. One moment.

Okay. I'm back. But I've got nothing else to—What? You want me to say why I _love_Italy? I don't—! That's absurd! Don't tell me to stop denying it, there's nothing to deny!

What?

I'm being the stubborn blockhead Italy thinks I am?

OKAY FINE. Maybe…I have a little…_feelings_for him. I mean, come on; how can you not want to take him and hug him and squeeze him? He's so adorable it makes me want to puke sometimes. He's just…refreshing. My life is so stressful, my boss is a homicidal maniac, and I always have France buzzing in the background, being annoying and trying to… um, actually I don't know what his purpose is... But either way, despite being really annoying, Italy is like…sunshine. He makes me feel better (sometimes; other times he makes me want to tear my hair out) because he's always smiling, eating, hugging me, kissing me, being cute… Ugh… I hate this… do I have to keep going? …Fine… He just makes me happy. That's all. He's my beacon of light in the dark.

And if I find out you told anyone that, I will torture you in the most gruesome and horrific of ways and then kill you. SO DON'T SAY ANYTHING. AND NO I'M NOT BLUSHING. _Scheiße_...

I think I have to go… make dinner… yeah, it's only three o'clock, what's your point? …No? I have to say more? Damnit, do you know how hard this is for me?

Okay I was lying I don't need to make dinner…

Hahh… Things that I like… well, I kind of like his annoyingness. He always wants to be around me. And I mean always. He cuddles up next to me in bed—I can't say it bothers me, but it's really hard to stay on control sometimes (seriously, you try having a half-naked cute Italian next to you!) and he's asked me about my box so many times… I can't show him what's in there! He's so innocent! It will shatter him! NO I'M NOT A PERVERT SHUT UP BEFORE I GAS YOU. Aheem… so, another thing… mm… Oh yeah… going on with that 'always latching to my side like those koala bears' thing… he seriously tried to jump in the shower with me the other day. Needless to say, I flipped… and threw the shampoo at him, I think. He just laughed and tried to get in anyway, squealing something about my butt. What is wrong with that kid? Usually people drift away from me, because I'm so… well, mean, but I don't care all that much. I like solitude. But Italy… it gives me a sick feeling in my stomach to think of him leaving. Not that he would. Trust me.

Something that pisses me off now. It's not _him_, per se, but it really just irks me when people tell him how good he is at stuff. I'm not jealous; he has his talents, I have mine. But it's just annoying. They'll be like "Oh look, it's Veneziano! He's so good at drawing~" or "Oh, is that Northern Italy's pasta you have for lunch today mister Germany? Can I try? I heard he's such a good cook~" and my only reaction is "_ARE YOU ALL BLIND?"_ Why do they only see his talents and not_ him_? He's a country, but he's human too. And it pisses me off that people don't think like that. Sure, there are a lot of his human traits that are irritating—he's loud, a slob, rude, but he's also kind, vulnerable, cute, and does what he's told even if he screws it up. I told him once that I like him because he is him, not because of his talents, and I swear he almost cried me a river and crushed my ribs with that crying hug he gave me. I'm not complaining though… it was… nice. I guess I just enjoy pain. Again, shut up, I'm not a pervert. Are you wanting to be killed?

I still need to say more? Okay, give me a second… STOP GIGGLING! _Gott verdammt_… Hrmmm… oh. He knows things about me no one knows. Like… ugh, those stupid frog slippers my stupid brother bought me one year. He said they were awesome. I said their ridiculousness was awesome, and I don't mean it in a good way. Well, Italy asked me about them one time, and… I think I threatened his life. But can you blame me? That would one hundred percent ruin my reputation. Stupid Prussia…

Excuse me? What about—YOU ALREADY KNEW ABOUT THE SLIPPERS? WHO TOLD YOU? You're not saying? It was Italy wasn't it? Ughhh… that idiot. I'm going to have to punish him. …OH SHUT UP NOT LIKE THAT YOU SICK PERSON! _Mein gott_… _you_are the pervert, not me!

He also knows how much I hate being… well, Germany. My country… has done terrible things. Like the concentration camps… I can't even _begin_ to say how much I wish I could take that back. I mean, people today still talk about it like it happened yesterday. I can't stand it. It wasn't even my fault—Hitler did it without even consulting me. Also, the _blitzkrieg_strategy…that was pretty horrible, despite being super effective. I've slaughtered so many… And yet, Italy never leaves. He knows all the horrible things I've done—and he stays. I can't put into words how much that means to me.

…

Let's get back on track here! This is no sappy romance novel about our supposed fate to be together or something equally ridiculous. Yeah. So. What else can I say… well… he likes to kiss me. All the time. I am definitely not complaining, because there's something terribly addicting about him being so close to me. I'm not blushing. But he…he just kisses me as though we are lovers! I mean, I suppose in a way, we _are_… I mean, he always tells me he loves me, and I… I…

Do I have to say it?

…I… looo—ah. Um, I guess that… I love him too… Okay, I do! There, are you happy? I said it! And _yes,_ before you ask, I've told him. Once. He was unconscious. And—Not like that! I would never do that to Italy! He was _sleeping_damnit, and I just… I don't know… I just said it! I'll tell him when he's awake one day… maybe. One day when I'm feeling up to getting tackled to the ground and smothered in kisses.

Another thing, because I see it in your freakishly sparkly eyes (which are terrifying by the way), we have _not_done… it. I see you thinking it. And NO. WE HAVE NOT. END OF STORY.

Prussia always complains about that. He says stuff like: "_Mein gott, bruder_, get into his pants already! You're practically drooling all over the place!" and "You know Italy would love it and I know _you_already think about it~" and then I usually throw the nearest heavy object at his head and hope it knocks some sense into his stupid brain.

But, you know… Maybe one day…

NEIN! I WON'T THINK THAT.

Ugh, one moment. Prussia's home, I don't want him to see me doing this… especially considering what I was just talking about. He will never let me live it down. Ever. And then I will have to kill him… I'm going to go hide in my closet.

Okay, ready… and it's surprisingly spacious in here. I hope he doesn't call me… my ringtone is that ridiculous song Italy wrote for me back around World War One—shut up—and he'll definitely be able to find me. I swear his life goal is to piss me off.

Anyways, I'm almost out of things to say… One more thing. People think that because I'm so harsh and strict towards Italy, I hate him. That's not it. I do it because I…I love him, okay? I just want him to live a long life, I don't want him to fall before I do. He's so lazy though; he needs to start doing something to improve, or else Britain or someone will get him when I'm not there—and that will be it. Italy will fall. Romano isn't strong enough to be alone, even with Spain supporting him, and it would spell out the end of Italy altogether. I know that would crush Spain, and I wouldn't be able to live without Veneziano being annoying beside me all the time—in that sense, all three countries would fall. It's sort of like we've merged—he relies on me, and I need him. I just want him to get better and stronger so that neither of us ever have to go through that.

I'm not tearing up, in case you're wondering, it's just my allergies. _Ja._It's dusty in here.

So… I have nothing more to say. Now you know why I let Italy stick around… and if anyone finds out, I_ will_hunt you down and kill you. Remember how I said I've done terrible things? I'm fully prepared to do another.

STOP GIGGLING ABOUT ME BLUSHING. I TOLD YOU IT IS MY ALLERGIES. _ICH WERDE DICH SCHLACHTEN!_

…Okay, I'm blushing! Happy? It's Italy's fault. Blame him…

Well, have a good day… I think Italy is back too…_ Ja_, definitely. I just heard yet another vase shatter… Great. I better go pick up after him as usual…

It doesn't bother me that much, but…

"ITALY!"

"Ah, Germany! I missed you~!"

…Okay, I take it back. It doesn't bother me at all.

**...**

**Author's note: So there ya go! The end ^-^ **

**Actually, maybe not. In one review, someone mentioned doing a Spamano version! So guess what I'm gonna do! 8D Ye! I'm getting to work on it right away :D**

**Thanks for reading! And if you'd like, leave a review! It will make me happy and I will give you imaginary rainbow chocolate chip cookies! :D**

******_ ICH WERDE DICH SCHLACHTEN!_ **Means "I will slaughter you!" I wish I knew how to pronounce it D: (thanks to Jack'n'Jules to pointing out to me that I suck at German and my previous Google Translate translation was shit. Lol I speak zero German...)  
**


End file.
